


9 Months Later

by protector91



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Gen, Post-Season/Series 03, Season 4 Prediction, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2018-10-05 10:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10305269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/protector91/pseuds/protector91
Summary: Spoilers from the Season 3 finale are present. Every season premiere features a flash forward mystery and cliffhanger. This is what I envision Season 4's being like and beyond.





	1. 9 Months Later

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey everyone. So as we all know, there's always some sort of flash forward cliffhanger in every season premiere of How to Get Away with Murder. This is what I envision the cliffhanger for Season 4 being like. I'm currently keeping this as a one-shot unless I get inspiration to continue it otherwise. There will be some spoilers in this from the Season 3 finale, so don't read this if you haven't seen that episode. Hope you all enjoy.

"Hey Wes," Laurel greets standing in front of his grave. His birth name of _Christoph_ written on the tombstone. "I know I said I'd visit you more, but then I promised myself I wouldn't return unless it was to tell you that you finally have closure. But here I stand, no closer to finding out who got away with murder today than I was the day after the fire." Laurel places a hand on her stomach. "I just thought you'd want to know that I decided to keep our baby. Maybe I can give him the childhood that the Mahoneys took from you." Laurel pauses and wipes away a couple of tears running down her face. "You were the one upstanding man in my life, Wes. I'll always love you for that."

She continues to talk while Asher and Michalea watch her from their car. Asher has a somber look on his face and he rubs his eyes.

"Asher, are you crying?" Michaela asks.

"Yes," he answers truthfully. "I know we didn't know Wes all that well, but we could've and now we'll never get that chance. It's cruel twists of fate like this that make you take a long, hard look at your own life, you know."

"Yeah," Michaela replies placing one of her hands over Asher's.

"So, after today, what are we going to do about Laurel?" Asher asks.

"For now, we continue to keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't do anything like trying to shoot Charles Mahoney again."

"Can you honestly blame her? Grief makes people do stupid things."

"No. Beating someone up because he said something idiotic is what I call stupid. But this road that Laurel's on; she reaches the end, she'll never be the same. We need to keep her mind off of this case in any way we can."

"Easier said than done since she's carrying Wes' child," Asher reminds her. "But really, take it from someone that never knew if his dad committed suicide or was murdered. You can bury those feelings as deep as you want, but they'll never go away completely. I say we help her find out who did this. She deserves that much. _Wes_ deserves that much."

Michaela sighs and takes a few moments to ponder over Asher's words. She opens her mouth to reply when her cell phone starts buzzing. "Hold that thought."

She pulls her phone out of her purse to answer it when time slows down and freezes on the date. Time then accelerates and the day shifts to night while a new date appears on the phone.

**9 months later**

Michaela dials a number on her phone. In the time that has passed, her hair has been cut significantly shorter. Asher sits beside her sporting a minor scar on the right side of his face; their car parked across from where Wes used to live. The complex now closed down and abandoned. Michaela finishes dialing Connor's number, but after a moment of contemplation, she sets her phone aside.

"You're not gonna call him?" Asher asks.

"No."

"Laurel's due date isn't too far off. She could probably use a few extra familiar faces to remind her she's not alone in this."

"Connor's got enough on his mind already with his wedding coming up in a few weeks. Besides, Laurel probably just came here to grieve for a little bit. Nothing we haven't had to deal with in the past." Suddenly a gun shot rings out from the building followed by several more.

"Oh God," Michaela whispers. She starts to dial 911, but Asher has already dashed out of the car and sprints for the building.

"Asher!" Michaela calls out, but he doesn't stop.

He rushes through the front door and goes for the stairs when another shot rings out. Someone stumbles out the door to Wes' old apartment, falling over the railing and crashing to the floor below. Asher runs over the body and discovers its Laurel's friend Dominic, with a bullet hole right between his eyes.

"Laurel!" Asher calls out

"Help!" He hears Laurel scream. "I need some help in here!" Asher runs up the stairs to the sound of Laurel's panicked voice. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to do this!" Laurel yells. Hands clamped over a gunshot wound in Frank's chest.

"Laurel…," Frank whispers; eyes half shut.

"No! You…you stay-you stay awake. You don't get to do this," Laurel pants.

"Laurel, what did you do?" Asher asks. Too shocked to do much else.

"Dominic did this. He did it. He needed to pay," Laurel answers.

"Now…is not the time to be a deer caught in the headlights douche face," Frank groans.

"Oh my God!" Michaela screams from downstairs. Asher runs out the room and sees Michaela standing over Dominic's corpse.

"We need an ambulance!" He shouts.

"I-I already called for one. What happened?" Asher glances to the right of Michaela and spots someone holding a molotov cocktail just outside the window.

"Michaela, look out!" He warns, but is too late. The mysterious figure throws the cocktail through the window and its fire quickly begins spreading. Asher runs to Michaela's aid as a second cocktail is thrown through the other window increasing the size of the blaze. Asher grabs Michaela's hand and they run up the stairs to Wes' apartment.

"We gotta get the Hell out of here now!" Asher yells, but Laurel is no longer keeping pressure on Frank's wound. She's pressed up against the wall breathing heavily.

"Oh no," Asher whispers.

"Guys. My baby. My baby's coming," Laurel pants.

**HOW TO GET AWAY WITH MURDER**

 


	2. The Ties That Bind

"Oh crapcrapcrapcrap!" Asher panics. "Michaela! Please tell me you know something about birthing babies!" Michaela stares at him in disbelief.

"Yeah, you don't try birthing them in a building that's on fire!" She yells at him and then glances at Frank trying to stand. "Hold it! The ambulance will be here soon! Don't try to get up!" Michaela shouts.

She kneels next to him and places her hands over his gun shot wound to try and keep the bleeding down. Asher looks out Wes' apartment door and can already see smoke starting to reach their level.

"Not soon enough," he says and takes Laurel's hand as she takes a rapid series of breaths. "That's it! Breathe Laurel! Just breathe!"

* * *

 

**9 Months Ago**

Laurel sits on a couch beside Michaela and Asher across from Annalise and Bonnie; Frank leaning against a wall in the corner of the living room. Annalise and Laurel are staring daggers at one another, Asher appears like he might snap at any minute from the uncomfortable silence, and Michaela looks completely disinterested in what's going on.

"We've been sitting here in silence waiting for Connor for almost fifteen minutes. You could've at least offered us a drink," Laurel says.

"I'm supposed to be sober, you're pregnant, I've seen how Mr. Millstone acts after taking one drink, and Ms. Pratt, well, I just don't like you."

"Thanks. Feeling's mutual," Michaela replies. Frank snickers at this and Annalise glares at him. He puts his hands up in mock surrender. Just then the group hears the front door open and Connor walks into the living room.

"Hey everyone," he greets.

"Nice of you to finally join us Mr. Walsh."

"Sorry. Lost track of time. Trying to plan a wedding can be a bit of a hassle you know."

"Save it. Sit down," Annalise orders and he takes a seat.

"So what are we doing here? There a case for us to work on or what?" Asher asks.

"Or what," Annalise replies. "We've been through quite a bit since the day you all first came into my class; for better and for worse."

"Yeah, mostly worse," Michaela snaps and Annalise gives an agitated sigh.

"I know. That's why I called you four here. I'm letting you all go."

"What do you mean?" Connor asks.

"I mean, you no longer work for me. I got so involved with Wes' life that he died. I'm not going to let that happen to the rest of you."

"Why are you doing this? You don't even like us."

"That's true, Ms. Castillo. I don't. Wes _did_ , however. The idealistic part of him that didn't give way to cynicism would want you all to be safe. So I'm cutting ties with you all before you get involved with any more of my messes." The Keating Four sit in silence at Annalise's words. A look of disbelief and confusion on all of their faces.

"You're seriously just gonna throw us out?" Connor asks.

"Exactly. You're free to get married, get drunk, or screw one another for all I care. As an added bonus, you'll have plenty of time to actually be law students for once."

"What happens if something from our past pops up? Like someone starts looking into Sinclair's death again." Asher says.

"I'll handle it. Like I said, it is none of your concern anymore." The Keating Four sit in silence again. After a few moments pass, Laurel is the first one to stand, followed by Michaela, Connor, and finally Asher.

"See you next semester, I guess," Asher says trailing behind the group. Annalise looks away from them and heads for the kitchen with Bonnie and Frank in tow.

"You're really letting them go? Just like that?" Frank asks once he hears the front door close.

"Of course not. I want you and Bonnie to keep an eye on all of them. Make sure they don't get involved with anymore cycles of murder and revenge."

"Especially Laurel?" Frank guesses.

" _Especially_ Laurel," Annalise confirms.

"What about you? What are you gonna do now?" Bonnie asks.

"Maybe someday I'll find my way back from all this shit, but for now, the best thing I can do is live."

"And what about Wes' killer?"

"Leave that to me," Frank answers.

* * *

 

"So what do we do now?" Asher asks once they exit the house.

"I don't know. Do we go our separate ways?" Connor asks.

"Hell no. We're too involved in one another's lives now. I say we just watch out for each other. Make sure no one does anything stupid," Michaela answers giving a small accusatory glance at Laurel, which the latter brushes off.

"What about Wes' killer?"

"You heard Annalise, Asher. This isn't our problem anymore. Even if it was, it's not like we can do much on our own," Connor says.

"You'll really excel as a lawyer with that attitude," Laurel mutters.

"With such a 'sunny' disposition, it's no wonder wait list wanted to screw you." Laurel looks ready to slug Connor, but Michaela steps in-between the two of them.

"Stop it, both of you. We are _not_ going to self destruct. Not after everything we've been through. I _won't_ allow it."

* * *

 

**9 Months Later**

"Ok, Laurel, that really hurts," Asher groans, which just makes Laurel squeeze his hand harder.

"Don't be a baby, Asher!" Michaela criticizes.

"Michaela, seriously?" Laurel says.

"Shut up and keep breathing!" Michaela yells and then slaps the half conscious Frank. "You stay the Hell awake! We are not losing anybody else!" She shouts and then starts to cough from the smoke. "Asher, get Laurel as far away from this smoke as possible."

"Is moving her a good idea?" He asks and Michaela angrily jerks her head towards the bathroom.

"Just...do as she...says," Laurel pants, and Asher starts to half help, half drag Laurel towards the bathroom. Amongst all this, Frank's phone starts to ring in the corner of the room, but everyone is too focused on the ensuing chaos to notice.

* * *

 

 _Pick up the phone, Frank. Pick up!_ Bonnie thinks hiding behind a dumpster at a warehouse.

"Hi, it's Frank. You know what to do," his voicemail answers.

"Damn it," Bonnie curses. "Frank, I've managed to track them to a warehouse on the outskirts of the city. I don't know where you are, but..." Bonnie stops talking at the sound of an approaching vehicle in the distance. "Just call me back as soon as you can."

She hangs up her phone and stands on top of the dumpster to peer through one of the windows of the warehouse. She spots a van pulling inside and stopping in the center of the building where several armed men stand. The driver gets out of the van and opens its trunk. He and one of the armed men pull out a body bag from the trunk and place it on a table. One of them opens it, but another man stands in the way blocking Bonnie's view.

 _Come on, come on. Move,_ she thinks, but then something else catches her eye. _Wait. Is that…?_

The man fully turns around and Bonnie's jaw drops.

"I'll be damned," she whispers.

**HOW TO GET AWAY WITH MURDER**

 


	3. The Keating Three

**9 Months Ago**

"She fired you?" Oliver asks.

"Yep," Connor answers.

"Just like that? Isn't she worried that the person that killed Wes might come after you and your friends?"

"She claims she's firing us so that we won't get in anymore trouble and that she'll handle any of our old problems," Connor answers then sighs. "You know, I'd been counting the days until I didn't have to work for that woman anymore and now I can't even enjoy it."

"Because of Wes' death?"

"Yeah. What happened to him…Oliver, how is that fair?"

"Didn't know you actually cared about him."

"I don't…or maybe I kind of did. I'm not sure. Given how he's gone now, I don't know if I'll ever be able to figure it out," Connor sighs again. "Part of me wants to figure out who did this to him, if you can believe it."

"I can. You wanted to become a lawyer to do some good in the world, right?"

"Yes."

"Then if you ever do decide to try and find out the truth, I'll be with you all the way."

"What, no. Absolutely not. You're one of the few good things left in my life. I don't want to put you in any danger."

"What kind of husband would I be if I wasn't there for you. For richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, for better and for worse, remember."

"You aren't my husband yet."

"I know, but my point still stands." Oliver leans forward and kisses Connor. A brief smile forms on Connor's lips and he's about to kiss Oliver back when the latter's phone rings.

"It's Annalise," he says reading the ID and answers before Connor can stop him. "Hello Annalise. Yeah, Connor told me everything…oh. I understand. It's no problem, really. You have a good day too." Oliver hangs up the phone. "Yeah, I'm fired too as it turns out. Same reasons as you."

"Would it be bad for me to say I'm relieved?"

"Not exactly given what you've been through." Connor smiles and kisses Oliver and the two of them spend the next several minutes just holding each other.

* * *

 

Asher sits outside Michaela's bathroom door listening to the sounds of Laurel going through morning sickness.

"I told you that you should've paced yourself in between those two Big Macs, Laurel," Asher says.

"You're not helping, Asher!" Michaela shouts from inside the bathroom holding Laurel's hair back.

"I'm eating for two remember, Doucheface," Laurel groans over the toilet.

"Oh come on! You too!" He yells.

"It's just the pregnancy hormones talking," Michaela says. "At least I hope it's them," she sternly adds and Laurel throws up again as a response.

"Oh for crap's sake," Michaela sighs. Several minutes and toilet flushes later, Michaela helps Laurel out of the bathroom and plops her into one of her chairs before taking a seat beside Asher.

"Ok, now that I'm full and empty, what's going on?" Laurel asks. "Not that I didn't appreciate lunch, but I suspect there's something up with you two."

"This may come as a shock to you Laurel, but people are capable of common acts of decency with no ulterior motive...granted we did have an ulterior motive, but you know what I mean."

"We just didn't want to leave you alone after the whole 'getting fired by Annalise' fiasco," Michaela jumps in.

"What did you think I was going to do? I couldn't care less about what Annalise has to say right now. You don't have to worry about me."

"You tried to shoot Charles Mahoney in front of dozens of witnesses," Michaela says with her best 'are you kidding me' look on her face. "And don't even think of blaming it on the pregnancy hormones," she adds right as Laurel opens her mouth. "Anyway, the other reason we wanted to talk to you is that Asher and I have been thinking. Despite Wes not really being one of my favorite people, he didn't deserve to die. We want to help you figure out who killed him."

"We already know who killed him," Laurel says.

"No we _don't_. You only wish it was Charles Mahoney because that would be easy. And even if it is him we are not going to relive Sam where we kill the killer before anyone knows he killed the victim and we have to run like chickens with our heads cut off covering our own asses. Do you hear me?" Laurel doesn't respond and Michaela gets in her face. "I said did you hear me!"

"Loud and clear," Laurel answers this time. "You know, did anyone ever tell you that you're cute when you're mad?" She jokes.

"Several times to my dismay," Michaela grumbles and Asher puts his hands up in surrender. "Put your hands down," she says without even looking at him.

"What about Connor? You think he'll want to be part of this?" Asher asks.

"You think he'd want to join us after Laurel told him to go kill himself?"

"He told me I should get an abortion the same day Wes died."

"Newsflash, two wrongs don't make a right," Michaela says to her.

"Shouldn't we at least tell him what we're doing if we're going to avoid what went down with Sam? Keeping me out of the loop didn't help did it?"

"We kept you out of the loop because we already committed the murder."

"Oh right. I still think we should tell him."

"I'll think about it, Asher."

"Ok, I guess that makes us The Keating Three until then."

"Oh, oh God," Laurel gasps and puts a hand up to her mouth before sprinting back to the bathroom.

"Go after her, Asher. It's your turn now."

"Son of a…," Asher mumbles following Laurel into the bathroom. Michaela laughs to herself at this, but a buzzing noise from her purse interrupts the moment. She pulls her cellphone from it and sees she has received a text message.

 _Hm…why does that number look so familiar?_ She wonders.

She opens the message and a picture is attached to it. It's of her and Wes the day she saw him looking for something to buy for Laurel. Michaela's eyes widen in shock and then another message is sent to her phone.

It reads:

**911**

* * *

 

**9 Months Later**

"Oh shit," Michaela pants feeling lightheaded from the smoke slowly making its way into the room. She's lost track of how long they've been trapped in the building, but she knows she can't last much longer. "Frank, keep it together," she says shaking him; his eyes half shut. "Asher, how far apart are Laurel's contractions?"

"I was supposed to be keeping track?" He asks and his hand receives a painful squeeze from Laurel's. "Ow! Sorry," he apologizes.

"Oh for crap's sake. This can't get any worse." Michaela braces herself for it to 'get worse' upon uttering that phrase, but instead hears something off in the distance. "Is that…sirens!" She shouts then coughs. "Guys, I can hear sirens. You're gonna be ok, Frank," she says with a smile.

"Frank?" She looks back at him. His eyes are shut. "Frank. Come on. Frank!" She yells again despite the smoke and shakes his body again, but his eyes don't open. "Come on!" She shouts. Suddenly a portion of the floor a few feet from her gives away and falls into the flames below them. Michaela closes her eyes and starts to silently pray.

* * *

 

"I'll be damned," Bonnie whispers.

Just then, one of the other men turns around and points in Bonnie's direction. He raises his weapon and Bonnie falls back off the dumpster she's standing on just avoiding the bullets from the man's gun smashing through the window. She hits the ground, picks herself up and makes a run for her car, but some of the armed men rush out the front entrance of the warehouse right in her path.

Bonnie skids to a stop and runs in the direction she just came from. She rounds the corner of the warehouse and spots a door on the side of the building. She rushes towards it, runs inside the building, and shuts the door behind her. The dimly lit warehouse is filled with rows upon rows of heavy crates. Bonnie runs to the left side of the warehouse and hides behind one row of crates as the men chasing her burst through the door.

"You're sure she went this way?" One of them asks.

"Positive," the other replies and they begin walking down the center of the warehouse. Back at her hiding spot, Bonnie has her hand clamped over her mouth praying they won't hear her. Then the sound from her ringing cell phone cuts right through the silence.

"What was that?"

"Oh shit," Bonnie curses.

**HOW TO GET AWAY WITH MURDER**


	4. An Old Threat?

**A/N: Hey what do you know. I sort of predicted a couple of things that happened in the actual Season 4 premiere. Lol. Anyway, hope you all like this chapter despite its short length.**

**9 Months Ago**

"You're positive this is Levi's number?" Laurel asks looking over Michaela's phone.

"100%."

"Wonder if he's the one that killed Wes and this is his way of saying he's coming for us now out of revenge for what happened to Rebecca."

"What reason would he have to assume any of us were involved with Rebecca's death?"

"Hold on. I'm kind of drawing a blank. Who's Levi supposed to be?" Asher asks.

"Oh right, you were still out of the loop at the time…I think. Never mind. Levi was Rebecca's foster brother," Michaela explains. "When she 'disappeared' he came to town looking for her. He actually slept with me to try and find answers, but he got arrested for possession of drugs before he could learn anything solid."

"If the drugs weren't his as he claimed, then he might think we set him up to get arrested, so he wouldn't find out what really happened to Rebecca. Thus, first he kills Wes and now he wants the rest of us if he thinks we had something to do with her death," Laurel suggests again.

"Or this could be a separate incident and now we have two sets of threats to worry about," Asher throws out and Michaela suppresses an urge to groan in response.

"Please don't say things like that. This 'who killed Wes' business is frustrating enough as it is."

"So what do we do about it? Do we call Annalise?"

"She just fired us, Asher. Odds are she isn't in the mood to be dealing with another one of our messes. We're on our own from here," Michaela says.

"We could bring this to Nate," Asher suggests.

"Pretty sure he hates us by our association with Annalise," Michaela replies.

"Does he? I've kind of lost track of who has a grudge with us."

"It wouldn't matter if he does or doesn't, Asher. This is just one text. That's barely enough to count as harassment, let alone a threat," Laurel says.

"Well, I'm not going to let him intimidate us. I'm gonna call and give him a piece of my mind." Michaela reaches for her phone, but Asher grabs and holds it out of reach.

"Hold the phone there, Michaela." Michaela rolls her eyes and upon realizing what he said, Asher glances at Michaela's phone and casually tosses it behind aside. "Look, I know I'm not exactly qualified to be the voice of reason here, but I think it's in our best interests that we don't poke the bear on this one. It's like you said. We need to be smart about this for once. Though I'll personally cut Levi's balls off if he tries to harm you," Asher promises.

"I doubt that, but thanks for trying to be my knight in shining armor," Michaela laughs and Asher kisses her.

"Do you have to do that in front of me?" Laurel asks.

"Sorry," Asher apologizes. "So how exactly are we going to go about solving this mystery? This isn't exactly Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys."

"Screw them. I'm gonna Olivia Pope the shit out of this case," Michaela declares earning a snicker from Laurel.

"You seriously watch Scandal?"

"Please, don't think I don't know your Netflix account is filled with every Season of Supernatural," Michaela throws back.

"To heck with that. Gotham blows them both out of the water," Asher states earning surprised looks from the two ladies.

"What?" He asks and they both hit him with two of the couch's pillows. "Hey!" He exclaims and grabs a pillow to defend himself and continue this rare moment of levity in the Keating kids' lives.

* * *

 

"Hope you like Chinese, Frank, because that's all I was able to get at this time of day," Bonnie says entering her home. Greeting her is Frank's back as he stares at a wipe board set up in the living room. A multitude of things written or scribbled on it.

"Hi Bonnie," Franks says without looking back.

"Been busy, I see," she says setting the food aside and standing beside him.

"I've been writing, erasing, and staring at this board for the past two hours with no luck," he reveals and Bonnie takes a look at some of what's currently written on the board.

**Suspects**

**The Mahoneys - Too Obvious**

**Nate Lahey - He hates us**

**The DA - He hates us too**

**Hannah Keating - Maybe. Bitch is crazy**

**Levi Wescott?**

"Levi? You think he might've killed Wes?"

"Why not? I did get him arrested before he could get answers regarding what happened to Rebecca. Dude was a bit of a loose canon, so you can guess his next course of action if he thought Wes planted the drugs to get him off the trail."

"But he's in jail."

"He _was_ in jail. About a week ago, I got this text message sent to me." Frank holds up his cell phone showing a picture of him and Wes in his car the day of the fire.

"You're positive Levi sent you this?"

 

"Checked several times. It's definitely from his phone."

"It could've been stolen for all we know."

"It's not. I called him from a burner a few days ago and he answered. Been trying to figure out if he got released from jail before or after the fire without much luck. Then again, if he did get out after the fire, that means we may have another threat to worry about."

"Terrific," Bonnie sighs. "Well, I'll see what I can dig up regarding the date of his release."

"Wait, this isn't your problem to deal with. None of this is. I told Annalise that I'd handle, so let me handle it."

"No way. I didn't talk you out of committing suicide so you could run off and get yourself killed trying to get back in Annalise's good graces," Bonnie says and takes Frank's hand. "We're in this together. Alright?" Frank looks at Bonne and then at her hand. After a short moment, he places his other hand over her own.

"Alright."

* * *

 

**9 Months Later**

_Frank, wherever you are, I could really use your help right now,_ Bonnie thinks. She can see the shadows from the two armed men growing larger as they get closer to her hiding spot.

When she spots one of their guns poking around the corner of the crate, she takes a deep breath, puts her head down, and charges forward. She roughly connects with one of the men and knocks him into the other. The both of them tumble to the floor and she spots one of their hand guns sliding across the floor. Bonnie makes a run for the gun and grabs it. She spins around, spots the other armed man on the ground beginning to point his weapon at her, and quickly fires her own gun.

She doesn't see where the bullet hits, but it makes the man flinch and pull the trigger of his machine gun letting off a wild stream of bullets. One hits Bonnie in her shoulder knocking her back into one of the crates. She lets out a brief yell, but keeps herself standing. She pushes the pain back and stumbles toward the man as he tries to aim again and fires off a second shot hitting him in the head. She turns her gun towards the second man, but he throws his hands up.

"Wait! Please, don't shoot!" He begs and Bonnie scowls at him.

"Simon," she seethes. "You son of a bitch."

**How To Get Away With Murder**


	5. An Unlikely Ally

**A/N: Some things from the actual fourth season may occur or be referenced during this story, but it will still be largely its own thing. Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

"Bonnie, wait! I can explain!" Simons yells keeping his hands raised in surrender. Bonnie gives Simon a nasty scowl and contemplates ending him right then and there, but instead grabs him by the front of his shirt and drags him to his feet.

"Later," she says putting her gun to his neck. "Right now, you're going to get me out of here."

"There's a van in the center of the warehouse," Simons hastily reveals.

"I know, come on." She starts pulling Simon along as fast as they can towards the center of the warehouse.

"Holy shit!" They hear someone yell.

"Damn it. Faster," she says pushing Simon ahead while keeping her hand clamped over her shoulder wound.

"There she is!" Bonnie turns around and sees several more of the armed men a distance behind her. She fires off several shots and they duck for cover while she grabs Simon again to use as a human shield.

"Back off!" She shouts and fires two more shots.

"Behind you!" Simon warns. Bonnie turns around and fires taking down another one of the armed men as they reach the van; its back doors open.

"Get in and start it up!" Bonnie orders with her gun in Simon's face. He nods and scrambles to the front seat while Bonnie provides more cover fire. Simon gets in the front seat and, unable to find the keys, hot-wires the van instead. He gets it working as Bonnie's gun runs out of bullets.

"Come on, let's go!" Simon calls out from the van. Bonnie jumps in the back and slams the doors behind her; silently cursing at not being able to bring the body bag with her.

"GO!" She orders.

Simon floors it as more bullets start flying breaking the back windows of the van and hitting one of its side mirrors. Simon speeds out the warehouse's front entrance and off into the distance leaving the men with guns behind.

"Bonnie, are you alright!"

"Drive, Simon. Just drive," she groans. "Find somewhere, anywhere, for us to hide this thing. Then you can explain yourself."

* * *

 

**8 Months Ago**

Simon's alarm clock went off at 8:00 AM like it did every morning since the semester ended. He turns over in his bed and shuts it off before spending the next minute staring at his computer; nervous at what he might see when he turns it on. He takes a deep breath, gets out of bed, switches his laptop on, and goes to his email.

"Come on, come on, come on," he whispers with his fingers crossed. He spots a few new messages and quickly opens them. His heart slowly sinking with each message. All the internships he applied for sent him rejections. Simon curses to himself and logs out of his email.

 _That's alright, Simon. Rome wasn't built in a day_ , he thinks to himself.

It doesn't really cheer him up, but it helps a little. He goes to the bathroom, washes up, changes his clothes, packs up his computer and leaves his apartment. He goes to a local Starbucks and gets his usual order of coffee and a blueberry muffin. Once he receives his order, he sits at the first vacant table he can find and starts looking for other places he can apply for internships.

 _I wouldn't be surprised if Annalise had something to do with my constant rejections. No, her name is mud these days. So what's up?_ Simon thinks taking another bite out of his muffin. His search goes on for another few minutes before a familiar sight catches his eyes.

 _Speak of the Devil and her spawn shall appear,_ he thinks noticing Asher, Michaela, and Laurel entering the Starbucks.

They don't seem to notice him, so he sits in silence while he finishes up his coffee and muffin. Once they take a seat on the other end of the Starbucks, he tosses away his empty coffee cup, packs his laptop back in his backpack, and approaches the group.

"Well, well, if it isn't the falling stars," Simon says.

"You're _going_ to be seeing stars if you don't leave us alone, Simon," Michaela replies without making any eye contact.

"What are you even doing here?" Asher asks.

"Same as you three I would assume. Getting breakfast," he answers as if it was obvious.

"So why don't you do that and leave us alone," Laurel says taking a bite of her muffin.

"Hold on, where's Connor? He get the heck out of dodge before the trouble that always finds you all gets to him like it did Wes?" Laurel slams her hands on the table and starts to stand.

"SIT down, Laurel," Michaela orders and she begrudgingly obeys. "What's your problem, Simon? I know we didn't get off on the right foot, but you act like we're the Anti-Christ sometimes."

"You want the truth? I don't like people that get hand outs."

"…excuse me?"

"Let me rephrase that. I don't like people that get hand outs and then do nothing with them. Silver platters don't come around often and to squander them the way you all did when Annalise picked you is quite frankly an insult to the people that did have to struggle in class."

"You don't _know_ the first thing about what we've been through," Asher says.

"Your performances in class, or lack there of, speak for themselves. But hey, it's like you said, what do I really know," he sarcastically laughs and turns to leave.

"What an ass," he hears Laurel curse as he heads out the door. He doesn't dwell on it, however. He spends the rest of the morning and afternoon going about his usual business. Getting some groceries, hanging out at the library for a little while, and then heading for the gym.

"97, 98, 99, 100," Simon's bench press spotter counts out and helps Simon put his weights back up. "Damn, Simon. You usually breeze through this exercise, but your mind seemed elsewhere the entire time."

Simon wipes away some of the sweat on his forehead and sits up. "It has been. Been applying for internships left and right this past month and said applications have all been rejected. I know Rome wasn't built in a day, but it can get a little disheartening."

"At least you've been applying for them at the appropriate time. I waited until my junior year to look for internships. Not one of my smartest moves," Simon's partner laughs and Simon laughs in return. "You never know when something good might come your way, but it won't happen if you stop trying. So keep at it. Speaking of which, give me another hundred," he half jokes and Simon lies down ready to try again.

An hour later, as Simon is leaving the gym, his phone starts to ring. The number on the Caller ID seems familiar, but he can't place from where. He answers the phone regardless.

"Hello?"

"Simon Drake?" The voice on the other end asks.

"This is he."

"This is Jeffrey Cohen of the Law Firm Caplan and Gold. We recently received your application for an internship and wanted to know if you can come in for an interview." Simon almost drops his phone when he hears this.

"Um, yes, of course. Give me two hours and I'll be right in," he replies.

"Thank you, Mr. Drake. We look forward to seeing you." The call ends and Simon sprints to his car and speeds back to his apartment. He showers, changes into a suit, brushes his hair, and arrives at Caplan and Gold in just under two hours.

 _Alright, stay calm,_ he thinks as he steps into the building. He goes to the front desk, gives his name, and is directed to take the elevator to the top floor. Once he exits the elevator, he finds someone waiting for him.

"Simon Drake, I presume," the man says.

"Yes."

"Jeffrey Cohen. We spoke on the phone a couple of hours ago," Jeffrey says shaking Simon's hand. "Right this way." Simon follows into an office on the far side of the top floor.

"Mr. Castillo, Simon Drake," Jeffrey announces once they enter the office.

"Two hours on the dot. I admire punctuality very much, Mr. Drake," Mr. Castillo says shaking Simon's hand.

 _Castillo? Is he related to Laurel? Wait, best not ask him that. That would probably seem kind of racist,_ Simon thinks taking a seat.

"Castillo? Not Mr. Caplan or Mr. Gold?" Simon jokes.

"It's just a fancy title," Mr. Castillo laughs along.

"Well, you can't imagine how shocked I was to get your call. This is one of the most prestigious Law Firms around. I'm surprised you'd want to talk with me, to be honest."

"Caplan and Gold only wants the best and from what we've seen from your resume so far, it looks like you fall under that description. But before we go any further, there is one thing I was to ask you first. I know you've been a student of Annalise Keating. What do you think of her?"

"Annalise…she's, well, on one hand I have, or at least _had_ , a certain admiration for her 'winning at all costs' mentality. What I _didn't_ admire was how she didn't know how to stop. It wasn't enough to defeat her opponents, she had to completely destroy them sometimes. People say they'd rather be feared than loved. I'd rather be respected than feared, if only because if you upset enough people, they're really going to want revenge later in life," he says. The irony of some of his words not lost on him due to his relations with the Keating Kids. "I'm grateful for some of the things I've learned from her, but if I never have to see her again after I finish law school, I'd be perfectly fine." Once Simon finishes, Mr. Castillo gives a brief laugh and Simon wonders if he blew it with that answer.

"I wish I had that outlook on life when I was your age. There's probably a small army of people that would love to get back at me. Forgive me for that question about Annalise. I just wanted to see if I might be hiring another her."

"Did I ease your fears, sir?"

"Completely." They spend the next several minutes talking about Simons resume and his time as a student before the interview finally completes and they shake hands again. "Well, Mr. Drake. I believe my mind is made up, but I'm legally required to take at least 24 hours considering all interns. You might not want to send out anymore applications, however," he says with a smile, which Simon returns.

"Thank you, sir. I won't let you down. Assuming you hire me that is. Hope you have a good rest of your day," Simon says and leaves the office. Once he gets on the elevator and is out of sight, Jeffrey turns to Mr. Castillo.

"What did I tell you, sir? He's just what we need."

"It might appear so, Mr. Wescott. At least we shouldn't have to worry about him trying to screw us over. If this plan of your's works, you'll receive everything you need to know regarding your foster sister Rebecca's death."

"Thank you, sir," Levi says; fists clenching at the mention of Rebecca's name.

* * *

 

**8 Months Later**

"Hi, it's Frank. You know what to do," Frank's voicemail answers.

"Damn it, Frank. Wh-where are you? Things went to Hell at the warehouse. You really need to call me back," Bonnie says and then pulls herself up to look out the van's broken back window.

"We being followed?" Simon asks.

"No, not yet."

"Good. I know a place we can lose them at."

"Simon, I swear if this is some sort of trick…"

"It's not, I promise you. It's a long story, but I'll fill you in on as much as I can when we're safe."

"Why don't you start with who was in the body bag."

"I don't know. I was able to snap a picture of her face before things went south."

"Wait, her?" Bonnie asks, but the sounds of cars in the distance grab her attention. "Oh crap," she says seeing the headlights from three cars approaching. "We've got company."

**How To Get Away With Murder**


End file.
